


When Undercover Really Means Overexposed

by Minxie



Category: NCIS
Genre: KINK: D/s, M/M, NCIS - Freeform, Possible Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:05:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minxie/pseuds/Minxie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Against his better judgment, DiNozzo goes undercover again. However, instead of his heart being exposed, it's his past. Well, maybe it's his heart too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Undercover Really Means Overexposed

"Grab your gear." The command in the voice wasn't diminished one whit by either sleep or the distance provided by the telephone line. "We've got a body."

Tony groaned and, glaring at the phone, let his head thump back against the pillow. There was no wonder he never brought a lover home. Rolling out of the bed, Tony grabbed pencil and paper. "Where at?"

"Southwest Half Street. Be there in thirty."

"Got…" Pulling on his jeans, Tony frowned and looked at the cell. "He hung up on me, the bastard."

 

Tony pulled in seconds behind Gibbs. "I don't even rank a goodbye, Boss?" Tony tsked and shook his head. "They always say it's the simple things that end a relationship." He batted his eyes and offered his most impish of grins.

"Goodbye?"

"Well," Tony squirmed under the direct gaze. "What if I didn't have the address or something?"

One brow arched and Gibbs drawled, "You got here, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," Tony sighed. Manners and Gibbs… anything Tony could say would be pointless.

"Nothing to worry about then," he replied, his lips quirked into one of his typical half smile/half smirks. And then, just as fast, Gibbs went immediately back into business mode. "Let's go. Body's waiting in a room upstairs."

Tony let his gaze wander the outside of the nondescript building. "Where are we?"

"The Crucible."

"Crucible?" Tony frowned as they took the stairs two at a time. "Never heard of it."

"Not surprised, DiNozzo. This isn't your usual end run for a Saturday night hook-up."

"End run? Gee, Boss, you sound…"

"Married and divorced, Tony," Gibbs shot a look over his shoulder. "I _have_ been on the prowl before."

Tony just grinned. "So, what d'we know?"

"Petty Officer Jared Blakes, local LEOs found the ID in his bag." Tony grunted as he filed the information away. "Right now it looks like a sex game gone bad. Ziva and McGee are downstairs taking statements."

Tony perked up, eyes glimmering with just a hint of mischief. "Sex ga…" and then he broke off with a low whistle as they stepped into _the_ room. His eyes scanned over the St Andrew's cross, over the cane forgotten on the floor, and then, with a double take, over the precise marks decorating the sailor's back and the wide welt circling the man's neck.

Games didn't even begin to cover it.

Tony knew games. But this… Tony shook his head quietly. The petty officer was not into sex games; he was into a lifestyle. Or at least his killer was.

Grabbing his camera, Tony ignored Ducky's greeting. His best bet was to keep his mouth shut, to let Abby explain the difference between games and lifestyle. It'd damn sure keep his past a whole lot quieter that way.

 

* * *

 

Tony looked at the caller ID and cursed, and then forced a lazy drawl when he answered. "You plan on calling me every weekend, Boss?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs growled. "Now is not the time."

Tony sighed. Definitely the second weekend in a row shot straight to hell. "Where at?"

"Northeast H Street," Tony could hear Gibbs' tires squealing against the pavement. "It's another club and first reports sound like a replay of Petty Officer Blakes."

"We got a serial?" Tony let the door shut behind him and, checking the locks automatically, headed to his car. This night was just getting better and better.

"Won't know 'til we get there. And, DiNozzo?"

"Yeah, Boss?"

"Goodbye." And the phone went dead.

Tony chuckled as he slid behind the wheel of his car. Maybe Gibbs could be trained after all. The chuckle turned into a snort of disbelief. "Been up too long if you believe that one, DiNozzo," Tony murmured to himself.

 

The scene was eerily similar to the playroom at Crucible. The cross, the cane, the raised marks criss-crossing the victim's back; the only difference was a second hash mark on the vic's right shoulder. Everything looked… "Staged. He moved the cross, Boss."

Gibbs looked between Tony and the cross. "How you figure that?"

Tony raised the camera and clicked off several frames, following a trail of scuffmarks on the floor. "The cross isn't normally there. See the marks, the way the base of it protected the wood over here? That," Tony tossed a finger over his shoulder, "is supposed to be over here."

"Get one of the employees to confirm it."

Tony nodded and snapped several more shots of the room. "We got a name yet?"

"We got a wallet," Gibbs replied, digging through a black gym bag. "Local LEOs left it alone as soon as they saw the scene. Let's see." He flipped the wallet open and sighed. "Damn it. Ensign William Riley."

"Starting to look good for that serial theory."

"No kidding, DiNozzo," Gibbs snapped. "Where the hell is McGee?"

Tony faded into the background and moved from pictures to sketches to interviews, making sure to leave a wide berth between him and Gibbs. He was on the boss' good side at the moment, having confirmed with SigMa employees the original position of the cross. No need to screw that up too soon.

 

* * *

 

"Drop your kit and meet me in the lab."

Tony tossed his backpack on the desk with a sigh. Three weekends. Three bodies. No leads. Just fucking lovely. "Let's go, McGee. Gibbs wants us downstairs."

"Is this day ever going to end?" McGee looked as tired as Tony felt.

Tony clapped a hand on McGee's back. "Not soon enough, Probie."

They stepped into the lab just in time to hear Gibbs ask, "What you got for me, Abs?"

"This guy is a master with that cane." Abby's fingers flew over the keyboard and photos of the markings left on each victim popped into life on the plasma. "No broken skin, no wrap around, and the design," she tapped a few more keystrokes, making the pictures overlap, "is the same on each vic except for the shoulder."

"His tally marker." It was a statement, not a question. Everyone knew it but still they all nodded in agreement with Gibbs.

"Exactly!" Abby turned away from the computer and, pigtails bouncing as she moved, she pointed to the table. "And while the man is a master, the canes themselves are mass produced. Same weight, same material, each one is just like the other one." She shrugged and, a crooked tilt to her mouth, said, "Nothing special about 'em at all."

"You're sure?"

Abby grinned and her eyes sparkled, a warning Tony picked up on immediately. She was hoping to put Gibbs on the spot. "Ever seen a custom made cane, Gibbs?"

And as usual, Gibbs sidestepped with an icy stare.

"Okay, then. These canes are generic. Not really low-end but definitely not pushing the top of the bar either. Any fetish store around…"

"Abby!"

The words stopped and she refocused. "Right. No prints, no DNA, outside the vics, of course. Same for the cuffs." Her lips turned down into a small frown. "Sorry."

"Damn it," Gibbs hissed. "Bastard has to screw up sometime."

Tony snorted softly, "Soon would be good."

Then it was Tony's turn to endure Gibbs' glare.

McGee sighed and leaned against the wall. "He's using these private clubs like a firewall."

"Yes, they do seem set up to protect their own," Ziva murmured.

Gibbs' head jerked around and he listened to McGee and Ziva ramble.

"How are we going to get him?"

"From the inside, McGee," Gibbs replied, bringing his coffee up for another swallow with a cat-in-the-cream expression. "We'll have to become part of his firewall. DiNozzo!"

"Yeah, Bo…" Tony stopped the minute he saw Gibbs face. "No… please, no. Come on, Gibbs, you know me and undercover assignments." And Tony knew how he was in the scene. _Not_ a combination he wanted to experience, thanks all the same. "It's never a pretty thing."

Gibbs smirked. "We need someone inside, DiNozzo."

"So send," Tony's eyes flittered over to McGee and back. Huffing a sigh, he said, "Okay, I can see why it can't be Probie, but…" Tony floundered, eyes racing around the lab searching for help from his team. "They know me," he said, grasping at straws. "No possible way for me to go in there as anything but an agent."

"Everyone out!"

With those two clipped words, with the look in Gibbs' eyes, Tony realized that Gibbs knew his secrets; all of them… the experimenting in college, the fact that young Tony DiNozzo was just as apt to bring a man home as he was a woman, the real — if hushed — reason Tony had left Peoria — and every department following within two years, the fact that most of his office talk was just that — talk. Gibbs knew and from the straight back and wide stance of his legs, Tony was willing to bet Gibbs was sending him under anyway.

"Abby can stay," Tony said quietly, determined to have at least one friendly face in the lab. Besides, she knew everything too. The only difference was she knew because Tony had told her himself.

"Ziva, McGee." Gibbs kept his eyes trained on Tony and his words directed at the other two agents. "I want the link that brought our three vics to these two clubs."

McGee blanched and involuntarily stepped back.

"We have looked, Gibbs," Ziva replied, her voice even and controlled. "There isn't one."

Finally Gibbs looked away from Tony. "There has to be," he growled. "Find. It."

"On it, Boss," McGee stammered, motioning Ziva to hurry out of the room.

Tension and silence built in the room, no one, not even Abby, moving until the hum of elevator doors closing sounded through the space. Squaring himself both mentally and physically, Tony said, "You know."

"I do."

"How…" and he stopped, swallowing against the nervous chatter building in his throat. Now was not the time to be flippant. "How much?"

"All of it, DiNozzo."

Abby stepped closer to Tony and put a hand on his arm in silent support.

"I knew it all before I hired you."

Tony gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Should've seen that one coming."

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. "You should have."

"You hired me though."

"I did. What do I care who you sleep with or how you do it?" Gibbs' lips quirked into half-smile. "Long as you get the job done, it's none of my business."

Tony assessed Gibbs, looking for any sign of a lie. "That's an awfully liberal outlook for a Marine."

Gibbs snorted and shook his head. "Abby sleeps in a coffin, Tony. Occasionally hitting your knees for another man can_not_ top that."

"Hey!" Abby managed to suppress her grin for all of about two seconds. "Be nice, Gibbs!" And just like that all of the tension bled out of the room.

"So," Tony asked, his defensive posture giving way to his normal, if still wary, relaxed bearing, "how we gonna work this? They _have_ met me, Boss, and this face," he pointed to the dimples flashing in his cheeks, "is just too pretty to forget."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Glad to have you back, DiNozzo." He walked over to the plasma and rocked on the balls of his feet. "You'll go in as Tony DiNozzo." He turned to look at Tony. "An NCIS agent who's ready to get back into the game."

"And after the case?" He asked the question quietly. Going back and then having to just leave again would be hard. Not impossible, but definitely something he'd need to prepare for.

"Like I said, unless you're sleeping with me, why should I care?"

Tony frowned, running Gibbs' words through his head a second time. "That's not what you said."

Heading out the door, Gibbs looked back and smirked. "That's what I'm saying now."

Tony canted his head to the side. "Did he just open the door, Abs?"

She blinked, looked between the empty door and Tony, and blinked again. "Sounded like it to me."

Tony honestly smiled for the first time in three weeks. "Sweet!"

 

* * *

 

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs' voice rang through the tiled bathroom. "Enough with the preening. Get your ass out here!"

Tony frowned but turned away from the mirror. He looked good. The low-riding denims and the second-skin tee… hell, he looked damned good. "Anyone ever tell you your timing sucks, Gibbs?"

"Second ex, right after I ducked the seven iron."

A chuckle escaped before Tony could stop it. "She was right."

"About some things, at least." Gibbs steered Tony towards the parking lot. "You ready for this, DiNozzo?"

"It's just a bar meet-up. Nobody will be strapping me against a cross tonight, you know?" Tony's lips twitched with a grin. "Who all's gonna be listening on the wire?"

"Only me. We'll handle the transcriptions between the two of us."

Tony released a relieved sigh. "It's not that I don't trust…"

"Yeah, it is."

"Well, okay, maybe it is," Tony conceded. "It's just that not everyone understands."

"I do," Gibbs replied, reaching out and opening the car door.

"Um, which part? Because," Tony rambled, his eyes darting around the parking lot, "really Boss, I can't see you… well okay maybe the control thing, but you'd be the top to my…"

"Hush, Tony," Gibbs interrupted. He waited until Tony fell silent and met his gaze again. "I get it. That is _all_ that matters right now. Clear?"

"Crystal, Boss," and Tony dropped into the driver's seat. "So, just you?"

Gibbs tipped his head to the side and grinned. "Maybe Abby too."

Tony blushed, his eyes going wide. "Oh, that's just cruel, Gibbs. Cruel."

 

* * *

 

Tony made his way through the first floor of the DC Eagle. His eyes scanned the building automatically, cataloguing possible exits and patrons alike.

"Here for the class?"

The gruff voice brought Tony to a halt. The guy reminded him of Gibbs — harsh and to the point. Tony couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Third floor, right?"

The guy nodded and blatantly looked Tony over: head to toe and back again. "Yeah. Maybe I'll see you after."

And, Jesus, if Gibbs hadn't just dangled a carrot in front of Tony's face days earlier… "Maybe."

"Stairs are over there."

Tony knew Gibbs was either laughing his ass off at the conversation, or frowning. He couldn't help hoping for frowning. "Thanks…"

"Jake."

"Thanks, Jake." Tony held out his hand. "And it's Tony."

"Best get on then, Tony." Jake tossed his head towards the stairs. "You wouldn't want to be late."

"Right… see you around then."

Tony heard Jake snort as took the stairs two at a time. If Gibbs was jerking him around, Tony would be back here fast enough to make his boss' head spin.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."

Tony stopped on the third floor landing and watched as Mike — a SigMa employee he'd interviewed at the second scene — stepped from the shadows. "Mike."

"If you are here in an investigative role, I'll have to ask you to leave."

"And, what if," Tony moved closer to Mike, taking their conversation away from the stragglers eavesdropping at the door. "What if I'm here because I haven't played since joining NCIS and thought your little S and M lessons would be a good place to introduce myself around?"

Mike looked mildly impressed. "My, my, my, Special Agen…"

"Tony, please."

"Tony," Mike corrected. "If that is indeed the case, I just may have to reevaluate my opinion of you."

Tony let loose with a cocky smile. "You better start reevaluating, Mike."

Mike chuckled and the grin finally reached his eyes. "Tell you what, Tony." He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved a business card. "Come by the club Friday night and I'll conduct that reevaluation in private."

"Not a member… yet."

Mike nodded. "True enough, but this one's on me."

Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip and stared at the card. "Offer only good on Friday?"

"Backing down all ready?"

"Hell, no." Tony pocketed the business card. "It's just if I catch a case, you know."

"Ah, that's right," Mike drawled. "You're a rather special lil' sub, aren't you, Agent DiNozzo?"

Tony rolled his eyes and walked into the room. Time to see if bondage had changed in the last four years. Tony highly doubted it.

 

* * *

 

"How'd he know you're a sub?"

Tony laughed, a short disbelieving bark of noise rather than any true amusement. "You called a conference for that?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs nearly hissed. "You can answer it here or in the bullpen, but answer it you will."

"The same way anyone in the scene would know you are anything but a sub." Tony's brow wrinkled as he watched Gibbs warily. "Attitude, body language, subconscious tells."

"So anyone would just know?"

"For you? Yeah. You are about the toppiest person I've ever met. But for me," Tony rolled his shoulders in an easy shrug, "doubt it. It'd take someone observant. I'm sure seeing me at work and then at the Eagle helped Mike out."

"And Jake?"

"Ah, hell, Boss. Jake was just about as toppy as you."

Gibbs looked pensive as he restarted the elevator. "You going Friday?"

Tony finally figured out why Gibbs had brought him into the elevator. The man was jealous. Tony fought the urges that flooded through him with that knowledge. He wouldn't offer Gibbs reassurance and he sure as hell wouldn't bare his neck to the man and beg to be kissed. Instead, he'd play it cool. Hopefully. "Thought that was the plan."

Gibbs growled as he stepped off on their floor. "McGee! Run Mike Stanton through the system. White male, roughly thirty-five years old, SigMa employee."

"What am I looking for, Boss?"

"Anything and everything. I want his underwear size if you can get it." Gibbs jerked his head towards Tony. "DiNozzo, go see Abby and get set for Friday."

"On it, Boss," and Tony was halfway to the elevator before he finished the three short words. He was more than ready to escape Gibbs. In the face of the man's husky possessiveness, Tony's resolve could only last so long.

 

* * *

 

"Nothing around the neck, Anthony." Ducky pressed a hand to Tony's shoulder. "We've yet to discover if it was a belt or collar that led these men to their demise."

Tony nodded. He wouldn't be collared, he could damn sure promise that. Call it old school or a flight of fancy, but as long as Gibbs was throwing out signals — _real_ signals, for a change — no one would put a collar — and all the implications it held — around his neck.

"And watch for the cane, Tony," Abby cut in, pushing both Ducky and Gibbs aside to press a hand against Tony's chest. "You've seen 'em. Three of them, to be exact. This guy pulls one out, you run like hell. Got it?"

Gibbs snorted. "I'd rather you call it, DiNozzo, so we can take this bastard down."

Tony looked away from Abby and, a small grin curling along the edges of his lips, said, "I don't know, Boss… running sounds pretty good."

Gibbs rolled his eyes and tagged Tony in the back of the head. "DiNozzo."

A mild look of disgust wrinkled Ziva's nose. "This is exactly what I have been talking about, Gibbs. Tony obviously does not have the mindset necessary for this type of operation."

"Ziva," Gibbs growled softly.

"He is much too playful, Gibbs." She looked Gibbs in the eye and blatantly ignored the silent warning flashing beneath Gibbs pseudo-relaxed exterior. "His cover will be blown the minute he is expected to submit."

Offended but not willing to let his experience be known, Tony said, "The meet and greet went well enough."

"The _meet and greet_ was nothing more than an exercise in flirting." She glanced distractedly at Tony. "Something Tony has proven to be good at on many occasions."

"Really, Ziva, your faith leaves me speechless." Tony's eyes flashed, hard and angry and full of all the words he was biting back. "Maybe, you know, since I'm such an incompetent, you should check my shoelaces? It'd be a damn shame for me to fall flat on my face before the night was good and started."

"It is most likely the only way you'd ever manage the illusion of submission."

"David!" Gibbs barked the name out. "This conversation is over."

Ziva canted her head to the side and stared, eyes held fast on Gibbs' as she searched for an answer. Nodding, she stepped to the door and didn't look back as she said, "I'll just be waiting in the car."

"Good plan," Gibbs murmured.

Tony waited until he heard the elevator doors shut. "Anyone else? Anyone have more pearls of wisdom to share or opinions on how I'll totally fail on this assignment? Or can I just go do my damn job now?"

Gibbs clasped a hand on the back of Tony's neck. "Down, DiNozzo. Time to keep your head in the game." Tony took a deep breath and then raised his eyes to Gibbs'. "You can get revenge later, if you still want it, but right now, you got a job to do."

"Right, Boss."

Gibbs steered Tony out of the lab and, taking the long route to the parking garage, said, "Only do what you're comfortable with, DiNozzo. Don't let things go too far just because…"

"I won't," Tony replied quietly. "But you got to understand, the things you'll be hearing tonight…"

Gibbs came to an abrupt halt. "Tony, stop." He frowned as he looked around. "Look, now isn't the time, so let's just leave it at we need to have a talk when this is over."

"Kinda got that one already, Boss." Tony felt a blush creep over his cheeks and then, as Gibbs reached out to touch him, reached out and then just as slowly let his hand fall back to his side, Tony smiled a shy and, Tony was sure, ridiculous smile.

"Not as your boss, Tony," Gibbs whispered before turning and marching off the last steps to Tony's car.

Tony followed and settled behind the wheel of the car and looked quietly at Gibbs, until Gibbs finally said, "I got your six, Tony."

The man was already backing away, turning back into the building, when Tony replied, "Thanks… Jethro."

 

* * *

 

Tony slid into the driver's seat and, closing his eyes, forced himself to climb out of the mental bliss brought about at Mike's hands and the two floggers the man had masterfully wielded. "Been too long, DiNozzo," he murmured. "Way too long if that's all it takes to bring you down."

He needed to go home. Hell, he needed to be with a top — preferably _his_ top — but without that, he _needed_ to be off the streets until he was back in his right mind. Gripping the wheel, Tony wondered if Ziva hadn't been right, even if her logic was wrong. His reaction to Mike, to the caress of the floggers, the easy way he let the outside world drop away… if Mike had wanted, Tony could have very well been just another victim. "Fuck…"

His cell buzzed, the sound loud in the silent car. "DiNozzo." He answered without looking at the caller ID, his voice weary to his own ears.

"Can you make it home, Tony?" Leave it to Gibbs to forego pleasantries and cut straight to the heart of the matter. "Or do you need me to come get you?"

Tony gave the question some thought. Sighing as the hum of his high receded further, he said, "Yeah, I'm good. Just," and Tony finally turned the key, the car's engine flaring to life. "Just keep talking to me, okay?"

Gibbs grunted, and Tony could hear the sound of wheels on pavement.

"On the road?"

"On my way to you."

Tony's lips curled. "Told you I can make it home, Boss."

"And I'll be there when you get there," Gibbs retorted. "And not as your boss."

Gibbs meeting him at home sounded like a damn fine plan, but still… "You don't have to, Jethro."

"You tellin' me that you're ready to be alone?"

Well, now. Tony cocked an eyebrow high. Sounded like Gibbs hadn't been blowing smoke when he said he understood. "Um, long as I'm not expected to be at work…"

"Tony," and the tone was just enough to make Tony snap his mouth shut. "Do you _want_ to be alone?"

"No," Tony whispered.

"Then get your ass home. I'll be waiting."

Tony shook his head as the phone went dead.

 

Gibbs was inside Tony's apartment by the time Tony pulled in and never had Tony been happier that he'd given Gibbs a copy of the key. Tony took a deep breath, drinking in the one scent that screamed Gibbs — fresh coffee — and smiled. "Hey."

Gibbs nodded and pointed to the couch. "Go change and get back out here."

"Been going through my drawers?" There was amusement in his voice, and if Gibbs had looked, it was dancing in Tony's eyes as well. Squashing the feelings welling up in his chest, Tony snatched the folded clothes off the sofa and padded to the bath.

Tony made quick work of rinsing off and changing into the worn sweats. "At least you made the right choice," he said as he walked back into the living room.

Gibbs smiled behind the coffee mug. "I do know you, Tony."

Tony grunted and, slumping down on the couch, twisted the top off the water bottle Gibbs had set out for him. He chugged half of it and then, without thinking, scooted until he was lying on the couch, his head nestled on Gibbs' thigh.

Gibbs' hand combed through Tony's hair.

Tony wanted to purr, wanted to just let go but he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he settled stuff with…

"Stop thinking. You got something you've been missing, enjoy it."

"Jethro." Tony knew he was whining; he just didn't care enough to stop it. "We need to talk."

"We will, Tony. We will. Just not tonight." Gibbs kept stroking, a slow cadence that did nothing to clear Tony's mind and everything to help him hold on to the last of the playtime high.

"Don't go," and Tony blushed as the words slipped past his usual defenses, "please."

"Wasn't plannin' on it," Gibbs replied just as softly, his hands never breaking the easy rhythm of the rubbing.

"That's good," he slurred, letting his mind drift.

Gibbs chuckled and turned his fingers minutely, until blunt nails were skimming across Tony's scalp and Gibbs was scratching and petting through Tony's hair.

And then Tony did purr.

 

* * *

 

Tony cursed as, simultaneously, a phone rang and his pillow moved.

"Sleep, Tony. It's mine."

"'Kay, Jethro." Tony twisted on the couch and then, as the words filtered through the fog of sleep, sat straight up, his eyes wide and heart racing. Jethro. Gibbs. His _boss_. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he muttered, "Oh, fuck."

Gibbs closed his phone and raked his eyes over the apartment. "No time for you to break down now, DiNozzo. We've got a live one."

Tony's brain switched gears faster than he'd thought possible. "Live? How? Where?"

Gibbs started lacing his shoes. "You up to this?"

"Of course," Tony snapped, pushing to a stand and heading to his room. "Five minutes and I'll be ready." From the other room, he demanded, "What happened?"

"SigMa employees have been making more… invasive rounds since the ensign."

Tony came back into the living room, tugging a shirt over his head. "Invasive?"

"They've been going into the private rooms where before they'd just crack the door open and peek."

"Didn't with me earlier tonight."

"You were with the owner, Tony."

"Mike's the owner, huh?" Tony winced as soon as the words left his mouth.

"Did you investigate him at all?"

Tony snorted. "Hell no, you had McGee doing that. Figured you'd tell me what I needed to know. So," Tony waved a hand to prod out more information, "invasive monitoring led to…"

"Opening the door just in time." Gibbs tossed Tony his cell and headed to the front door. "One thing… the vic is a civilian."

"Whoa, that's new." Tony let Gibbs lead him through the hall until, reaching the parking lot, he asked, "We riding together?"

"Yeah." Gibbs nodded towards Tony's car. "Grab your gear."

Tony picked up two bags — his kit and an extra set of clothes — from the trunk of his car and ran back to Gibbs' car just in time to hear the end of Gibbs conversation with Ziva. "…leave the room for Tony. Start talking to people, someone had to see this guy." Gibbs punched the gas, scowling as Ziva replied. "The vic is alive, Ziva, not conscious. We need those witnesses."

Gibbs ended the call and, holding up a finger to stave off Tony, dialed another one. "McGee, get over to George Washington, we got a live one coming in. Metro will meet you there. And, Tim, work with them. This one's a civilian."

Gibbs slowed and merged into the traffic pattern. "Go ahead and ask, DiNozzo."

"So, civilian. Alive. What else?"

Gibbs growled. "Not much. Until the vic regains consciousness we treat it as a homicide."

"Got it, Boss."

Gibbs parked and paused long enough to say, "The room is yours, Tony. You know what you're looking for."

Tony nodded and slammed the door behind him.

 

"Yeah, boy." Tony grinned as he walked into the room. "You left us something this time, didn't you, you ass?"

Taking up his camera, Tony fired off shots.

The cross with the wrist cuffs dangling empty and open.

The wrappers from the paramedics, all proof that the vic may well be alive but it was a battle hard won.

The belt that Abby would surely be able to pull prints from.

The vic's bag and wallet.

Setting the camera to the side, Tony worked methodically, sketching and then bagging and tagging the evidence. Finally done, he grabbed the wallet and flipped it open. "Holy shit."

Tony ran for the door, almost bowling Gibbs over in the process. "I know how he gets 'em."

"Breathe, Tony," Gibbs walked past him into the room, collecting the evidence bags and Tony's gear. "Now, give it to me."

"The meet and greet. I met Doug," Tony waved the wallet in the air, "there. It definitely explains why we haven't found a match on the member list."

"It does?"

"Yup," Tony's eyes lit up, knowing he had Gibbs' full attention. "Both of the clubs — Crucible and SigMa — have these classes at the Eagle, for beginners, right?"

"The point, DiNozzo?"

"After each class, new participants get a free pass to the club. A pass for the person who attended the class and… a guest."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed. "He's stalking them there, coming in on their card."

"And that way he remains completely anonymous."

Gibbs shoved the evidence at Tony. "Take this to Abby. Time for me to talk to Stanton."

 

* * *

 

Tony hung up the phone and looked over to Gibbs. "Abby's got something, Boss."

"Hope to hell _it_ has a name," Gibbs growled.

"He had to be someone at the Eagle." It was the same thing Tony had said fifteen times already.

"Got that part, DiNozzo."

"I've been running through the faces I noticed in the crowd, maybe we'll be able to put him…" Tony's words fell off as they turned into Abby's lab.

"DiNozzo?"

Tony stared at the screen and, head shaking in denial, said, "Too close. Too damn close. My God, Ziva was right, I shouldn't have been on the case…"

"Tony!" Gibbs had a hand on Tony's elbow and his eyes darting between the image and the agent. "Talk to me."

"That's Jake," Tony whispered. "I was tempted… he was such a… reminded me of you… Jesus, it could have been me…"

"Jake? That's the guy who stopped you in the bar, right? Before you'd gone upstairs?"

Tony nodded, eyes glued to the familiar face staring back at them. "So damn close."

"You taking him down with me or you just planning on looking at his picture all day?"

Tony growled and his eyes hardened. Turning, he said, "Taking this bastard down."

"Then let's go get him."

 

* * *

 

"Damn it!" Gibbs slammed his hands flat against the dash. "He's gone to ground."

"To ground, maybe." Tony stared at the empty house. "But not necessarily somewhere we can't find him." He looked over at Gibbs and arched a brow. "He'd want somewhere he felt safe…"

Gibbs caught on just as Tony's words trailed off. Together they said, "The Eagle."

Gibbs slammed the car into reverse. "Damn it, right under our nose."

Tony shrugged out of jacket, one hand braced against the dash as he wiggled the other free.

"What are you doing, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked over, his hands automatically unbuttoning and rolling each of his sleeves. "Getting ready to go in."

Gibbs almost snarled. "In? You aren't going in."

"Yeah, I am. Look, Boss," Tony schooled his face into a serious mask, "this is somewhere I want to be able to come back to. Storming the place with guns blazing will eliminate that possibility."

Gibbs was quiet for the rest of the ride. As he pulled into a parking place, he said, "Get him outside as fast as you can, DiNozzo."

"Come on, Gibbs," Tony chided with a smile. "I need time to work the DiNozzo magic. Besides, I play the role of nervous virgin just fine."

Gibbs glared at Tony. "Fifteen minutes, Tony. That's all you get and then I come in," and Gibbs' lips quirked into a menacing smile, "with guns blazing."

 

Tony started scanning the small crowd before his eyes adjusted to the bar's dark interior. "Where the hell are you?"

"Help you, son?"

Tony looked up and, weaving around the tables, walked to the bar. "Yeah," Tony gave the man his best smile. "A bourbon neat, please."

The bartender shook his head, his hands automatically pulling glass and liquor to the counter. "I meant, is there someone you're looking for? You said 'where the hell are you'," and a finger of whiskey was pushed to Tony. "That kind of implies that someone was supposed to meet you here."

"Oh. That." Tony looked down, spinning the glass slowly over the varnished bar top. "Well, I was here not too long ago for a, um, class. And there was this guy."

"A guy?" The bartender tilted and looked around Tony. "Nothing but guys here. Anything to narrow it down?"

Tony dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. "Look, maybe this was a bad…"

"Tony?"

Tony's eyes flashed triumphantly. He turned, keeping a loose grip on the glass and his stance one of casual interest. "Jake?"

"It's okay, Tee," Jake motioned at the bartender. "I remember this one."

"Always did say I was unforgettable."

Jake erupted with a deep, rumbling bark of laughter. "That cheek ever get you in trouble, boy?"

Tony reached up and rubbed the back of his head. "More than you know."

Jake looked down at his watch. "What are you here for, Tony?"

Tony tossed back the shot of bourbon and winced, wondering how in the hell Gibbs could drink the stuff. "Actually, I was wondering…" Tony took a deep breath and then, in a rush, blurted, "I've got about forty-five left on my lunch hour. How 'bout we go grab a burger?"

"A burger?"

Tony shrugged and produced an embarrassed smile. "Well, it'd be nice to know more than your first name."

"Look, kid…"

"This was a bad idea, huh?"

Jake took another look at his watch. "I'm not gonna be around here much longer, so you might to find someone else to invite out for that burger."

"Or maybe, you could join me anyway." Tony shrugged again. "Seeing as I came lookin' and all."

"Just a burger?"

Tony grinned. "I really don't have time for anything else."

"All right then." Jake started for the door. "Tee, I'll be back in forty-five."

Tony smirked. Nervous virgin scored again.

 

* * *

 

"He had a packed duffle and a ticket for the train to Delaware. We caught him just in time." Tony perched with one hip on his desk. "He was catching the newbies coming in for the meet and greets and then, after a few casual dates for drinks and pool at the Eagle, he'd convince them to use their free pass and take him to the club. According to what Abby found, this wasn't his first stop either. Warrants in Florida and California, and BOLOs in two other states."

"So the three Navy guys?" McGee shook his head as he asked the question.

"Total coincidence."

McGee chuckled softly. "Unbelievable."

"No kidding." Tony shuddered, knowing just how close he'd come to taking Jacob McFarland up on his offer. The knowledge dampened Tony's thoughts of possibly playing in the DC area.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs barked as he walked through the bullpen, "you're with me. The rest of you… go home."

Tony fell in step behind Gibbs. "Where to, Boss?"

"My house," Gibbs answered as the elevator doors shut.

"Your house?"

Gibbs flipped the switch, bringing the elevator to a quick halt.

"Boss?"

Gibbs shook his head and moved closer, crowding into Tony's space.

"Gibbs?"

"Better," Gibbs murmured as he pressed in, trapping Tony between him and the elevator wall.

Tony almost whimpered… the adrenaline rush of the take down, the feel of Gibbs pushed tight against him, and that damnable voice in his ear… it was almost too much. "Jethro…"

"Perfect," Gibbs whispered. And then he leaned in and, his breath ghosting along Tony's ear, asked, "Did you change your mind, Tony? Or do we still have things to talk about?"

Then Tony did whimper. "No."

"No?"

Tony stood stock still, praying he didn't embarrass himself in the elevator. "Didn't change my mind."

Gibbs stepped back, eyes twinkling mischievously and a smirk firmly in place. "Good to hear, Tony." Hitting the switch, he said, "So, my place?"

 

* * *

 

Tony moaned and stretched out across the bed, his back cracked and a satisfied hum vibrated low in his throat. Gibbs' hands roamed over his body — caressing and petting and soothing Tony back down with an unexpected tenderness. He was using the same hands, the same lazy touches and murmured words that had taken Tony so high only moments before.

"Content?"

"Mmhmm," Tony murmured. He rolled and nuzzled against Gibbs' chest. "Completely shattered."

Gibbs voice was soft when he answered. "Shattered can be good."

Oh, yes. Shattered could definitely be good. 'Specially when the one who took you there was with you when you came back. "Just don't know how you did it."

"Don't worry about how," Gibbs pressed a chaste kiss to Tony's forehead, "just trust that I can."

"And will again?"

Gibbs fingered the bite on Tony's shoulder, the only mark he'd put on his lover's body. "Often enough that you won't forget."

 

...end...

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Leela for the beta read! While I have taken extreme liberties with the rooms and the building layouts, the DC area clubs — _Crucible, DC Eagle,_ and_ SigMa_ — are real. However, the crimes are fictitious in nature and not meant to be a reflection on either the clubs specifically or on the BDSM scene in general. Happy playin', y'all.


End file.
